Caged Phoenix
by Yogogirl13
Summary: One simple change, that one extra feature, alters everything we've ever known. The behaviors, the emotions, the relationships; everything. -AU- Disorder!Zuko
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**

_**Winterangel44: She no ownage!**_

**Me: :'C**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Introduction<em>**

The boat rocked from side to side and the feeling was unsettling; not for Iroh (no, he's been through much worse than a simple bout of seasickness) but for his nephew, who was looking quite unsteady on the wooden floors and in great discomfort. In his hands was a bowl of what looked like thin soup with bits of rotten meat; this was the only thing that had his full attention, his fingers repeatedly clenching and unclenching the wooden bowl. Iroh solemnly looked out to the water as if in deep thought.

"Who would have thought I'd return to Ba Sing Se…"he started slowly, looking at his nephew from the corner of his eye to see if he had his attention. He then grinned widely as he spun around and slapped on a straw hat with a pink flower sticking out. "…as a _tourist_?"

Zuko ignored him, staring at the wooden bowl in his hands, as if the rotten soup was the only thing that mattered. His mouth moved silently, as if he was actually conversing with the soup. Iroh frowned and leaned closer, straining his ears to hear that extremely faint whisper.

"This is bad…This is bad…This is bad…This is bad…" It was clear that Zuko did not like their current situation; being hunted by his own sister, wanted dead by his own father, never (_never ever_) allowed to come home. The whisper sounded confused, perhaps a bit broken. The whispers suddenly stopped, cueing Iroh to lean back into his regular position.

"…Not tourists. Refugees," Zuko suddenly uttered out loud, breaking the small moment of silence. His eyes remained on the bowl, glaring at the soup as if it was the problem. He cautiously took a sip before immediately spitting it out at the edge of the rail, the foul taste of the "soup" upsetting him and his tongue.

"Ugh…!" he glared fiercely at the bowl and scowled. He leaned over the railing and gave a very distraught huff. "Wanna…go home."

"Don't we all."

Zuko suddenly jolted from where he stood and began to grip tightly at the bowl, obviously startled by the voice that came out of nowhere. Iroh furrowed his brow when the faint whispers returned, going at a furious tempo. He turned to give a sheepish smile to the teen who spoke and two of his friends before resting both hands on each of his nephew's shoulders, successfully gaining his attention.

"Don't be rude, _Li_," Iroh pressed on his nephew's alias, praying to the mighty spirits above that his nephew will actually catch on his subtle hint to not reveal their identities. The whispers halted and his nephew slowly came to, staring at his Uncle's shirt as if he were waiting for instructions. Iroh nodded his head towards the three teens that began to step out of the shadows. "Say hello."

Zuko slowly turned his head and stared at the newcomers' shoes. He tilted his head slightly and nodded at the shoes.

"Say hello," he repeated before turning his attention back to his Uncle's shirt, still a bit uneasy towards the strangers. The one who spoke (looking like he was probably the leader of the small group) raised a brow but didn't speak his confusion.

"My name's Jet," he pointed at himself before taking out that stalk of wheat in his mouth and pointed at the other two teens. "And these are my Freedom Fighters, Smellerbee and Longshot."

The short teen, looking like a boy when she actually wasn't, gave a small wave, casually saying, "Hey."

The taller teen said nothing, only inclining his head in greeting.

"I'm Mushi and this is my nephew, Li," Iroh lied, resting a hand on Zuko's shoulder, turning both him and his nephew towards their acquaintances. Jet inclined his head in greeting, stepping closer to the two men and smirked as he put the piece of wheat back into mouth.

"Here's the deal; I hear the Captain's eating like a spoiled king while us refugees have to eat off his leftovers. Doesn't seem fair, does it?" Jet asked in tone that hinted mischief, leaning against the wooden railing of the ship.

"What sort of king is he eating like?" Iroh asked, a bit suspicious but a bit curious as well.

"The fat, happy kind," Jet's voice drawled out in sarcasm, smirking at the hungry drool that slipped from the old man's lips. His attention turned to Zuko, who hasn't said a thing since he had anxiously greeted the Freedom Fighters (albeit, in a rather unique way, merely repeating an order). "You want to help 'liberate' some food?"

Zuko said nothing for a short moment before reaching towards the wooden bowl on the railing, only to hurl it into the open sea. "Food…"

With that, Jet smiled before walking off with his two friends.

Iroh raised an eyebrow at his nephew's unusual behavior; his nephew would easily brush any friendly stranger, whether it was a nice merchant or an elderly woman, off before Iroh could say "Pai Sho".

"It seems like you've taken interest into those boys, my nephew," Iroh said, trying to sound casual, peeking open an eye to watch his nephew's reaction. Zuko said nothing, staring at the wooden floor before raising a shaky finger to point at his Uncle.

"Food," he said simply, pointing at Iroh's stomach for emphasis. Iroh chuckled before patting his nephew on his shoulder.

"Thank you for caring, my nephew. That is very nice of you." Zuko bowed his head to hide a shy smile, turning towards the railing again and murmured to himself.

"That is…nice of…Zuko."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Flying<strong>_

Zuko, Toph realized, did not like to fly.

The shrieks escape his throat and he runs off, leaving the gang in confusion.

"What's with him?" Sokka asked, scratching his temple his forehead in thought.

"He's just being stubborn. I'm sure he'll come if we make him," Katara spat, clear hate dripping from her voice. She's still doesn't forgive Zuko for his mistake that caused Aang to have scarred back a long time ago and does not believe in his condition due to her clouded vision of anger. Not even replying, choosing not to argue for what seemed like the sixtieth time this week, for her words won't reach through the girl, Toph walked away from the gang, following the path of the distressed boy.

"Sparky?" Toph called out through the empty corridor, feeling the teen pressed against a dead end wall. He was curled into a tight ball, a position that was not quite new, his head between his knees. She felt his trembles stop and his heartbeat slow just a bit, moving away from it's quick tempo. "Can I sit with you?"

One thing that Toph learned was that if you wanted to hear Zuko speak or listen to anyone, you needed patience. Earning no response, Toph sat down a foot away from the teen.

"I hate it too."

She felt his head peek through a gap in his knees but, sadly, hid again. At least she had his attention (_well, some of it._)

"Flying. I hate it too."

She inwardly cheered as she felt his head rise slowly from his knees, slowly turning to look at her (_although, she knows that he won't make eye contact with her, choosing to stare at either her chin or her forehead_).

"...Hate?"

She smiled and nodded. "Mm hmm. Hate it. I can't see a thing up there, y'know."

She felt him nod hesitantly, as if he needed to be on guard.

"Why do you hate flying, Sparky?"

She felt him stiffen and start to rock in his ball. She waited until he answered(_breaking a record of five minutes of waiting in silence_). "Hate...wind...fly...ears."

Toph nodded and crossed her arms, releasing a sigh. "Yeah, I guess I gotta hate the wind whistle through my ears too since I don't know what the hell's going on anyways. But I'll tell you this..."

She felt the rocking slow until it completely stopped—_good, she finally had all of his attention._

"Nothing'll happen when you're with us, Sparkles. So don't let air break you down."

When she felt Zuko nod after a moment of a long silence, she grinned and stood up.

"Let's go, Sparkles. They're waiting for us."

"Let's go."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Contentment<em>**

A moment to relax was kind of rare for Iroh, Lieutenant Jee had assumed.

Following his nephew everywhere, making sure he has everything he needs, teaching him how to firebend like if he was teaching a three year old, _babying_ him like if was a freaking child. He himself has three kids and none of them were as troubling as the prince.

"He has autism, Lieutenant," Iroh had said one day when he had heard Jee mumble under his breath about how _spoiled_ the prince was, never thanking his uncle for how much he's done for him. That was when Jee's eyes widened; he had heard of the condition before and knew it's details (_he had prayed and prayed that his kids wouldn't have it when they had been in their mother's womb_).

"I'm sorry," he said stiffly, bowing as deep as he could. Iroh just smiled and waved it off like a fly.

A few days later, after avoiding the general and the prince, he had finally gathered up the courage to ask the general, "How can you handle all of...this?"

Iroh had stared off in deep thought, smiled wistfully and said, "He is like another son to me, someone to teach, someone to love..."

When Jee had nodded and was about to walk off, Iroh added, "He's also a very good person to relax with."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Grief<em>**

Back then, when he was stationed at the walls of Ba Sing Se, Iroh thought his nephew never knew the meaning of mourning...or any feeling in general, really.

A few weeks before he and his son had left to battle, a baby turtleduck had died, the weakest one of the whole litter. While his mother had mourned sadly over the loss of the little turtleduckling, Zuko had just stared at the corpse like if was an open book; his gaze empty as it always was, his face completely composed. It was a bit...off.

When he had returned from the long siege, ready to slip a few tears once hidden in his old bedroom, mourning over his lost son, Iroh had noticed a certain absence. When he had asked Azula, she had cheerfully said that her father was deemed Fire Lord and that her mother had left them. His eyes had widened and he had ran. He wasn't going to fight for his position to the throne (_he had received the letter of his father's death and his brother's crowning; he was too upset and gladly let his brother have his throne_). No. He ran to his nephew, remembering something that Ursa had said once.

"_An interruption in his schedule could set him off; whether if the family has an important meeting with the Fire Lord or if I'm thirty seconds late for his walk, he'll get upset._"

When he had found him wandering the palace gardens where the pond was, he had knelt to his knees and looked up at his nephew. His normal straight face was pulled slightly into a confused and anxious look, his mouth pulled downwards and his brows furrowed. Zuko quickly moved his gaze and his mouth moved silently, like if was trying to find the right words to speak(_not that he spoke much_).

"Ma...Ma," he said, surprising Iroh with his soft voice. Iroh shook his head and sighed.

"Mama isn't coming home for a while," he said grimly. Zuko frowned even more and his gaze drifted to the pond, his eyes watery and his brows furrowed even more.

"Ma...Ma," he whimpered, his hands reaching for his shirt, tugging nervously. He seemed to be holding in sobs, giving choked gasps, like if we scared to cry. Iroh tried to rest a hand on his shoulder and earned a terrified squeak, more whimpers let loose. After a few moments of anxious gasps, the boy finally buried his face into his uncle's shoulder, wailing into the soft cloth, sobs wracking his body. Iroh patted his head softly, and carefully rubbed his back in soothing circles, knowing fully well that hug wouldn't help.

I guess it doesn't matter how the person is, condition or no condition; grief can be there along with any other feeling.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Drugged<strong>_

"Un, ugh."

"Do you want another blanket?"

"Un."

Seeing his nephew remotely calm was nothing new but he still didn't like this situation; his nephew completely still in his bed on the ship, bandages covering the whole left side of his face. Being given medicine to help soothe the pain, Zuko was completely dazed and his responses were unintelligible.

"How are you feeling?"

"Guh, ungh."

"I see...would you like some water?"

"Hn."

Supporting the back of his nephew's head, Iroh slowly tipped the glass until his nephew turned away. He laid a palm on his nephew's forehead and sighed.

"You have a bit of a fever. I'll be right back—"

"Ungh!" his nephew moaned out in distress, weakly trying to grab his uncle's sleeve, coughing feebly all the while. Iroh smiled sadly and patted his nephew's hand gently.

"Okay, I'll send for someone instead."

"Mm."

Resting could his nephew some good.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Keeping secrets<br>**_

"Please~."

"No."

"Please~, Zuko; tell me what Toph told you."

"No."

"Tell me now!"

"No."

"What if I give you a strawberry?"

"...Phoenix Strawberry?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Is that a yes?"

Zuko merely cupped his hands, waiting for the fruit. Katara's eye twitched and she fished the fruit out of her pocket, giving it to the eager firebender. After popping it into his mouth, a long silence took place. Katara forced a smile, her eye twitching with annoyance once more.

"...Well, aren't you going to tell me?"

"No."

* * *

><p><strong>Me: So, this idea had actually been wandering my mind for a long time. <strong>

**Me: At first, the story would have took place in Modern AU with Lu Ten being alive and Zuko being his five year old cousin who had autism. The difference is that that story actually had a storyline. After months of writing it with that plot, writer's block caught up with me and I was torn between either changing Zuko's age or just writing ficlets in the original universe. **

**Guess what I chose. :)**

**So, if you are bothered with this for some reason-like if I had offended someone who has autism-_please_ let me know. Review or P.M your response if you would like.**

**I would also appreciate it if any of you would try to help me out with describing how Zuko should be or if you have any requests of any sort. **

**R&R Please!**

**Reviews are like air. I need my air.  
><strong>


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer:  
><strong>_

_**Me: If I said that I owned this, not only would I be a liar to you guys, my ass would get sued the hell out.**_

_**And since I am only thirteen and don't have the money to be cheeky with the law, I must repeat this same line over and over;**_

_**ME NO OWN A:TLA**_

_**And since it is my duty to do so, as a n00b of an author, I will say what I always say and generally mean:**_

_**Enjoy~  
><strong>_

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><p><strong><em>Behind closed walls<em>**

Saying that Zuko was distraught was not only a fact. It was an _understatement_.

Being thrown into the cave was something he did not appreciate much, thank you. Well, as long as the men with the hats let go of him; he didn't come here without a struggle—that bite mark would be on the man's hand for about three months.

He duly noted that there was another person in this lit cave. He ignored her, finding the glowing diamonds attached to the rocky walls more interesting. His eyes continued to scrutinize the cave with little interest.

"You're a terrible person, you know that; always following us, hunting the Avatar, trying to capture the world's last hope for-_munumunumunumuhmunugu_."

Growing rather bored of the blue lady, Zuko chose to concentrate on that damn wrinkle on his tunic and the patch of dust on his pants. Suddenly, as he was straightening his tunic, he was grabbed from his shoulders.

"Are you even listen—?"

Zuko gave a loud, piercing shriek before smacking away that hand away. He gave a shrill wail and darted to the other side of the cave. He collapsed onto the ground and made sure that he was facing the wall.

Just curl into a ball to protect yourself. Rock back and forth to shake off the stress. Let out the wails to scare away the demons. Scratch your arms repeatedly so you can get used to that kind of pain. Rub your sleeves up and down to get rid of the chills. Let-

"Zuko...?"

It's that blue lady again. Can't she get the hint; he wants to be alone. Just ignore her; just wait for the Tea Man. He'll know what to do.

"I'm sorry if I startled you."

Just keep ignoring her. She'll go away soon.

"It's just," the blue lady gave a sigh, "whenever I saw you, I thought you were just some creep chasing after my friend."

Those words would hurt if he actually paid attention to her. Just ignore her. Just ignore—

"...You're really not that harmful, now that I think about it."

If only that blue lady was mute.

"I mean, if we had done this before, we wouldn't really have a problem with you chasing us," she looked very proud of herself, as if she found out a very naughty secret and was planning to use it as blackmail.

"The great Prince Zuko is weak."

A loud crash resounded, causing Zuko to cover his ears and the blue lady to abruptly turn around.

"Aang!"

The blue lady scurried off to the air boy and hugged him like if she hadn't seen him in five years instead of three days.

"Zuko?"

The Tea Man is here. Zuko decided to uncover his ears and glance over his shoulder; those movements usually bring a smile on the man's face, like if he's glad that Zuko acknowledges his existence.

The Tea Man walked over to him with watery, worrying eyes.

"Next time, please listen to me when I say jump, okay?" he asked shakily, looking ready to cry.

"Okay."

Tears began to fall and The Tea Man started to hug him. Zuko stiffened but allowed it; just this once would be fine. He gave a sharp grunt and shifted uneasily under the embrace; just because he allowed it this one time doesn't mean he was going to be comfortable.

"Muuu...

"Oh, I'm sorry, Zuko."

_"He doesn't even let his uncle hug him! What a spoiled brat."_

He hears that blue lady hiss at the air boy and furrows his brows; he didn't know what she was talking about but it still got him upset. He buried his face into the Tea Man's shoulder, blocking out everyone around him.

"Zuko, what's wrong?"

"Muuu..."

"Hm?"

"Spoiled. Spoiled."

"What do you mean?"

"Brat."

A long silence filled the whole cave; even the blue lady and the air boy stopped whispering.

"What did he say?" The blue lady's voice returned, louder than her whisper.

"He repeated what you said, Katara." The air boy replied, his tone different from his original airy one. "General Iroh?"

He felt the Tea Man shift slightly, like if he was turning to look at the air boy.

"Yes?"

The air boy glanced at the blue lady, who shook her head as if saying, 'You're asking him, not me.'

"I don't mean to be rude but...why is Zuko so...so..." the air boy trailed off, looking a bit uncomfortable with his question.

"It's okay to be curious. My nephew has autism, a condition that affects his social interaction and communication skills," the Tea Man said sadly, patting Zuko's shoulder gently. Zuko remained where he was, his face buried between the cloth of the Tea Man's tunic, trembling under that hand.

"Muuu..."

"There, there," the Tea Man soothed, rubbing rough circles unto his back, the pressure soothing Zuko. The Tea Man shifted again, most likely turning to the air boy. "Go help your friends; we'll catch up later."

Once they left, Zuko hesitantly scooted away from the Tea Man, abandoning the action of hiding from the people. When the Tea Man rested a hand his shoulder, he gave a sharp whine and pushed away.

"You're upset."

Zuko glanced away, pretending to focus on the glowing crystals.

"You're upset and wondering why I was with the Avatar, yes?"

Zuko looked over his shoulder to see the Tea Man wearing a solemn look. Whenever he wore that look, Zuko knows that he either did something wrong or the Man is just going to give a lecture. Perhaps it was both?

"Zuko, please understand that you don't need to chase the Avatar anymore. You don't have to go home just to be happy. Remember when you came home with bruises because you were bullied by having autism. Here, somewhere away from home, people won't judge you for your condition."

Zuko covered his ears; he hated to hear those words. Each word was a shot to the chest and to hear them from the Tea Man made it even worse.

"Please Zuko, I'm begging you!"

Zuko began to make keening noises, trying to block out the words he dreaded hearing.

"You can't go home."

Zuko broke.

Iroh hesitantly glanced at his nephew. Right now, he and his nephew is currently on the Avatar's bison, having helped out on the battle. Zuko looked forlorn, very distraught. He pressed his hands at his ears, his chest heaving up and down.

He turned to the Avatar and his small group. The young man, Sokka, had gained only few injuries, a couple of bruises but nothing more. His sister, Katara, was merely exhausted to the bone, no injuries on her. The Earth King was the same.

Miss Toph had the most bruises but to her, she said, "This is nothing compared to what I got back at the Earth Rumble." The young Avatar carried a few bruises but had the most serious injury; various burns spread throughout his back.

"I'm fine," he said shakily, but even the small lemur knew he was lying. Katara pulled out a vial and began to bend the water out of it, healing the Avatar's burned back.

"Does that feel better?"

"Yes. Thank you, Katara."

Katara smiled sadly and said, "I'm sorry but I couldn't get rid of the scars."

Aang twisted and tried to take a view of his back; the scars weren't really that serious, merely faded compared to what it was before it got healed.

"It's fine," Aang smiled, glad that the pain was gone at the most. Katara then turned to glare at his nephew.

"You wouldn't have been burned if he was paying attention."

Here we go.

"Now Katara, that's not fair!" Toph protested, sitting up from her position; she was closest to his nephew and had been softly speaking to him.

"Oh? And it's not fair to Aang? He has scars on his freaking back!"

"Scars that you healed!"

"Scars that won't go away!"

"Guys, guys, I'm fine, really," the young Avatar said sheepishly, desperately trying to stop the argument.

"No, Aang, you're not; you have to carry those scars forever because of that reckless firebender!"

"Is having a scar really that horrifying, Miss Katara?" Iroh asked softly, speaking for the first time.

Katara blushed in embarrassment and realized how cruel her words sounded.

"I'm _so _sorry, General Iroh. I didn't mean it—"

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

Katara flinched but reluctantly turned towards his nephew.

"I'm sorry, Zuko," she muttered, her tone not exactly reaching of the meaning of her words.

His nephew said nothing but his posture loosened from his previous stiffened form. The waterbender looked slightly offended, expecting an "It's okay" but got nothing, at least in her eyes.

"The Earth Kingdom...has fallen," Young Kuei murmured solemnly, turning away from the leftover remains of the city he once ruled, the city he failed. He closed his eyes and hugged his pet bear, Bosco.

Iroh sighed.

'_There goes our chance of "a new life"._'

* * *

><p><strong>An illusion of control<strong>

When Hakoda had first met them, his inner alarm went off, leading him to act like he always acted to Fire Nation.

"Dad, they're okay," his son said, having caught his father discreetly pull out a shank. Hakoda raised a brow but put the weapon away reluctantly.

"Chief Hakoda, it is an honor to be in your presence and on your ship. My nephew and I may be Fire Nation but we promise you that we mean no harm," the old man had said, bowing to him with a closed fist inside his right palm. After a few seconds of silence, the old man nudged his nephew softly with his elbow, "Say thank you to Hakoda."

Bowing with a closed fist in his left palm instead of his right, the teen said, "Thank you to Koda. Good job."

Hakoda glanced at his son, who shrugged.

"You learn to get used to it," his son said, scratching the back of his neck.

Hakoda sighed. He had a feeling that this teen would cause trouble.

Surprisingly, the teen was actually a big help to his crew. He didn't whine when it was his duty to mop the deck or wash the dishes; it might've looked like the boy wasn't listening but once he had left the room, he would come back to a spotless deck or shining plates and silverware.

"Thank you, young man."

The teen said nothing, walking past him like if he wasn't there, causing Hakoda raise his brow and scratch his head in confusion.

After a few days of this on going routine—his daughter acting cold towards him for some reason, his son bonding with him, the young blind girl going through another bout of sea-sickness, the Avatar stare at his thick matt of hair, the polite general offer tea and helpful advice to him and his crew, the teen quiet and obedient, etc—it was suddenly interrupted.

"Zuko!" the old man cried upon seeing his nephew screaming at the top of his lungs while taking his rage out on the room.

"What's wrong with him?" Hakoda shouted over the shrieks, watching in horrified awe as the teen began to set things on fire.

"I don't know," the old man said softly, sounding ashamed of himself, upset. As he lowered his hands, every set fire decreased in size upon command. He walked to his nephew, who had long collapsed on the floor and was wailing excessively into his palms, his shoulders trembling and his body racked with hiccups.

"You're okay," Iroh murmured, beginning to rub his nephew's shoulders, catching his attention. The teen whimpered but eventually rested his head against his uncle's shoulder. Iroh continued to knead his nephew's shoulders, whispering softly to him as he held him close.

"He has autism," the old man said after a long while, turning to Hakoda, who had observed with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

"Autism."

The old man nodded solemnly, softly shushing the fretting teen.

"Surely you knew, yes?"

Hakoda shook his head; his children, nor their friends, hadn't mentioned this small fact (then again, it's not really something you bring up in a conversation).

Suddenly, all of the pieces began to click together; the avoided eye contact, the echoing of words, the strict routine, the odd bouts of obedience, the small fit—it all made sense now.

"Isn't there something a bit different with his room?" Hakoda observed, glancing all around the room; something was very different, indeed. Was it the clean bed sheets? Or maybe it was new set of candles? Perhaps it was—YES, that was it!

The masks.

...Technically, they were drawings (scratch that, _doodles_) of masks. Once, when it was Hakoda's turn to call the teen in for dinner, he had stood in awe as he gaped at the multiple scrolls unrolled and scattered throughout the whole room, filled with doodles of masks and shaky, unintelligible calligraphy of what seemed to be names.

Hakoda strolled into the room and went towards the small nightstand. He opened the drawer, pulling out the missing scroll.

"I had put it away when it was my turn to call him so no one would trip over it or mess it up," Hakoda explained. The teen snuck a glance but quickly looked away when Hakoda caught his gaze. "Is this yours, son?"

Zuko glanced again before hesitantly pulling away from his uncle. His hand brushed against Hakoda's as he took the scroll and briefly let the bottom half unroll to the ground, his illustrations dry and printed onto it.

"Thank you to Koda," Zuko murmured after a while, smiling to himself. "Good job."

And, like the feeling you get when the sun finally pokes through the clouds after a rough day, the thick tension cleared and there were no problems from the teen for the rest of the day.

Of course, to avoid another situation like that, Hakoda put a label on the drawer of the nightstand that said "scrolls" in neatly printed calligraphy.

"The scroll," Hakoda had said, waving the scroll in front of the teen's eyesight before pointing at the open drawer, "goes _here_."

Zuko stared at the man until he reached forward and tugged the scroll out of the man's hands.

"Scroll goes here," Zuko echoed, dropping the scroll into the drawer.

"Good job!"

"Good job."

Hakoda smiled as the teen continued to opening and closing the drawer repeatedly, beaming all the while.

_On second thought, this young man isn't so bad after all._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Pretending not to care<em>**

"So, he's the one we've been hearing about. Autism, right?"

"That's what General Iroh said in the letter."

Making small talk used to be something all four old men excelled at. Right now, however, that skill seems to not be _theirs_ at the moment.

Talking to a shy child; something they were prepared for.

Talking to a child who was crouched in a tight ball and clearly ignoring his surroundings; something they found _completely_ unexpected.

The child was their friend's nephew. Their friend, who had just shown up late to the meeting he himself had arranged, had brought in a kicking and screaming boy who clearly did _not_ want to be here. The exhausted look on their friend's face made them think that someone had died.

"Ursa's gone," he had said while dragging in the shrieking child. The grown man looked like he was about to either cry or collapse from fatigue. His friends gently told him to get some rest; they could watch his nephew for him.

Even a mere child could tell that most of their attempts were futile.

Pakku's attempt of reaching out to the child was the first to crumble; he had just kept droning on and on about how "ignoring your elders will get you nowhere in life."

Jeong Jeong spoke more quietly though, surprisingly, sometimes pausing between sentences to see if the boy would respond.

Bumi only gave the boy a piece of rock candy. The boy took it with caution but soon after, he continued to ignore them.

Piandao did nothing. He didn't say a word, loud or soft, and he didn't carry candy with him. He just sat next to the boy and waited. For what, they didn't know.

As if waking up, the boy slowly moved his gaze from the ground to the swordmaster.

"Hello, Prince Zuko," Piandao greeted as if the boy had barely arrived. Zuko turned away but the man could tell he still had his attention. "I'm Piandao, a very good friend of your uncle's."

The boy started to slur unintelligibly, his words broken apart and his tongue loose.

If Piandao had been bothered, the other men couldn't tell. The swordsman did not raise a brow or try to correct the boy; he only smiled.

"My friends and I want to get to know you better. Can we ask you a few questions?"

More broken words of confirmation and the man smiled.

"Just stay silent for a no and try to speak for a yes. Can you do that for me?"

"Muuu."

The other men took a step forward and Jeong Jeong spoke, "You can firebend, yes?"

"Muuu."

"I see. Do you think you do well?"

Silence.

Piandao spoke, "I can't bend any fire but I can fight with a sword. Do you like swords?"

"Muuu."

Pakku spoke.

"So, let's say you had no firebending; would you like to learn how to fight with only your fists or a weapon?"

"Muuu~!"

Bumi snorted and started to cackle.

"Well then, if you want to learn then you have to ask us yourself."

Silence.

"Mmmuuu~"

"Come on, young lad, you can do it."

"Mmnnnuh."

"Yes?"

"...p-peez. P-puh-leez. P-Please?"

Pakku and Jeong Jeong sighed in relief, Bumi cackled, and Piandao smiled.

"Please, what?"

"Please...t-teach...Zu."

"Okay, Prince Zuko, we will teach you how to fight. But for now, let's play a game. Is that okay?"

"Issat ukay, Zu? Et's play."

"Good enough for me," Pakku muttered as he brought in a Pai Sho board. He set it down gingerly in front of the boy, who curiously felt the board with tips of his fingers.

"Have you ever played this game before?"

"Play. Play. Play."

"Perhaps Iroh taught him?"

"I'm surprised that his nephew even knows about the game."

"He can just be repeating the word because he only likes the sound of it."

"Well, we'll never know until find out now, will we?"

"That's right~"

"Play."

"Yes, Prince Zuko, play."

After a few hours of resting, Iroh went back out into the gardens to see Pakku giving an outrageous shout at a Pai Sho board, his opponent: the young prince.

"Face it, Pakku; you've got beaten by a ten year old."

Pakku grumbled to himself crossly, peering suspiciously at the board. Behind him was a cackling Bumi, a snickering Jeong Jeong, an outright laughing Iroh and a chuckling Piandao.

"Being strategic was never really my strong quality but I'm surprised that you beat me when I'm seven times your age, Prince Zuko."

Pakku turned and nodded to the group of men.

"It looks like we've got a new member."

Jeong Jeong nodded solemnly.

"With a little training, his firebending can be brought down to a controllable level."

Piandao smiled.

"A young boy with such skill; with a little practice, he'll be just like his uncle."

Bumi cackled.

"Such wisdom this boy can learn in due time. With our teachings, he can outsmart any enemy he encounters."

Iroh smiled.

"Welcome to the White Lotus, Prince Zuko."

Zuko stared at the board.

"Again."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Impressions<br>_**

"So, what did you want to talk to me about, dear?"

"You're doing it again."

"What do you mean, honey?"

"You're babying him just because of his 'condition'. I bet it's not even real."

_Slap._

"How dare you? He is your _son_-"

"He's a stain to our family; if he's going to be the heir to the throne, he has to start acting like one without you spoiling him!"

"Just because I _support_ him and actually _attempt _to spend time with him and _help_, doesn't mean I'm spoiling him. You're just a heartless _monster_!"

Silence.

Without another word, Ozai walked away from his wife, fuming silently. Ursa sighed quietly, ignoring the tears that slid down her cheek.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bullies<strong>_

Seeing small bruises was nothing new to Iroh. At first he had thought that his nephew had merely stumbled when the caretaker had taken him out to the garden for his daily walk.

"Did you trip and fall, Prince Zuko?"

"Trip and fall."

"Yes, Prince Zuko, trip and fall. Let's go clean up first then we can continue your walk, hm?"

"Trip and fall."

When he had asked the caretaker of the bruises, the young man merely shook his head at the question.

"No, sir. The prince has not tripped on during our walk in the gardens. I had assumed that he had been roughhousing when he went to school, sir."

So when Zuko returned to the palace with more bruises, Iroh began to grow worried.

"What happened, my nephew?"

"Trip and fall."

"You tripped and fell at school?"

"Yes."

"Was it because you were playing too rough?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. Trip and fall. Foot." At that, Iroh's brows raised.

"You tripped and fell over someone's foot?"

"Yes. Foot on purpose. Laugh."

Iroh was silent for a few moments before the pieces clicked together. He said nothing, merely sighing and getting up to his feet, forcing a smile.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

"Clean up."

Iroh silently noted to speak with his brother about home schooling Zuko and how _sending him to that academy was a bad idea from the start._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Absence<br>_**

For as long as Mai knew him, which was only a few years for she was only eight, she would know when her friend's, Princess Azula's, brother was upset.

"What's up with your brother, Princess Azula?"

Of course, thankfully, her bubbly friend would be the one to ask the question that was both on their minds. Azula scoffed and looked like she stepped on a Komodo Rhino's dung.

"He's throwing a fit just because '_Mommy isn't here_'," she spat, sneering as she used a 'baby' voice. "He'll forget about it in a few days; he _always_ acts like this."

It didn't go away.

In fact, the somber aura lingered around him until General Iroh returned from the failed siege.

_Three months._

"How is he, General Iroh?" Mai asked the esteemed man once she had successfully snuck away from her friends. The man smiled knowingly.

"Why don't you ask him?"

The man moved to the side to show the boy himself. He looked up from his feet to stare at Mai for only a few seconds before shifting it back to the ground.

Silently gathering her strength, Mai greeted softly, "Hello, Prince Zuko."

The boy's gaze remained at his shoes but he murmured absentmindedly, "...Hullo."

Iroh smiled and knelt in front of the boy to catch his attention. "Prince Zuko, I'm going to retire early so how would you like to continue your walk with Miss Mai?"

Zuko said nothing, avoiding his uncle's gaze by staring at the turtleduck pond.

"Would you like to rest over there then?"

"Rest."

"Okay, you may go and rest."

Zuko walked away from them and headed towards the turtleduck pond, plopping down on his usual spot.

After a long silence, Mai was startled as the old man patted her back softly. "Good luck."

And with that, he walked away.

Mai sighed softly but bravely going towards the boy with a slight jump in her feet.

Not that she was anxious or anything, for she wasn't allowed to show emotion, even if she wanted to. And sometimes, when she would brood and her thoughts would move towards the _strange—_no, not strange, _unique_**—**boy, she would guiltily think that in a way, they shared a quality.

But of course, that was her being a bit selfish.

"Hello, Zuko. May I sit here?"

She didn't really use formalities when she was around him; even though she wouldn't know if he listened to her most of the time, he never pointed out or look offended with such casualties that would have made her parents ashamed.

Not that she cared.

Earning no response, Mai sat down anyways, making sure to keep a distance from the boy; since he didn't scream like a banshee and/or tackle her, Mai took his silence as a confirmation.

"Do you remember me? I'm Mai, your sister's friend," she said slowly, subconsciously hoping that the boy would respond. When he didn't, she hid her disappointment and continued on.

"I know that you might not even know me but I want to get to know _you._ Is that okay?"

Silence was her answer once more but not once did she get irritated like the princess would have. She merely sat there, patiently waiting, something she was quite used to ever since her parents started taking her their meetings between some important companies.

_Sit still and stop squirming_; _it is unbefitting for a girl your age, especially if you're a noble. Your insolence and posture will cause attention to you, which will not only make a fool of yourself, but of your father. So don't let me catch you with such a weak posture for the rest of the night._

Five minutes. That was all it took; five minutes.

The boy had finally turned and took notice of her; his eyes roamed everywhere before they finally rested on the girl.

"Mai."

Zuko had said it in a way that made the girl want to curl up and hide. He said it as if it was finding out a secret and saying aloud to oneself just see how it sounded coming out of your lips; like if he even uttered it one more time, the world would split in two.

He treated it like the last piece of candy in the whole bunch.

Like if it was sacred.

Mai would like to think that it was the last suggestion; even when the boy seemed to ignore her, he still considered her someone close, someone _dear._

But of course, as she stands abruptly and announces that she must take her leave and that he must do so as well, she considered it another selfish thought.

Then again, as the boy reaches forward and clenches at her sleeve, uttering her name once more, she decides to let herself believe in that obsession.

But it wasn't like she cared.

_She is terrible liar, she realizes when she was back at her house_; _she wa_s_n't even able to fool herself that she actually _liked _the Pri—_Zuko.

...She decided that she was merely being naive, as her mother always put it. She would surely get over it...

Right?

* * *

><p><strong><em>Me: So there it is; the chapter that I've worked on for a month and one day...<em>**

**_Well, that exhausted the hell out of me (jk, jk, I won't disappear on y'all now)._**

**_Repeating the same routine; a talk about sending in requests or telling me your thought on this chapter, will be a great blessing._**

**_An author needs some love; meaning I need some more prompts/ideas/inspiration/requests._**

**_:)_**

**_Reviews are like air. You don't want me to die, do you? ;)  
><em>**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**

**I DON'T OWN A:TLA!**

**I SAID IT AND I AM NOT AMUSED. **

**Enjoy~**

* * *

><p><em><strong>After an accident<strong>_

When he woke up, his vision was lopsided and blurry, feeling quite disoriented. Confused, he started to let out soft whines.

"Muu..Muu..."

"Prince Zuko, you're awake!"

Ah, the Tea Man was there with him; perhaps he could tell him why he felt like this.

He felt a cool palm rest on his forehead and he leaned further into it, sighing in relief.

"You have a bit of a fever, Zuko," the Tea Man informed him sadly, his eyes downcast. When the hand was removed, Zuko weakly moaned; the sensation of something cool on his forehead had soothed his headache, so the fact that that sensation disappeared saddened him.

"Here, drink this."

As his head was lifted, a cup was pressed against his lips. He defiantly turned his head away.

"No...tea."

The Tea Man chuckled—_and there was nothing funny with what he said; how he hated not being taken seriously—_and said to him, "It isn't tea, my nephew. Only medicine."

Hesitantly, he moved his head back, parting his lips just enough to let the liquid slip into his mouth.

It tasted bitter but durable; it could've been worse and it wasn't like this was the first time he tasted medicine.

When he coughed dryly afterwards, making his chest burn painfully, another cup was brought forward to his lips. The Tea Man had reassured him that it was only water.

"Slowly, my nephew," he said with a smile. He listened, the cool liquid soothing his throat.

Once he turned away, wanting no more water, the cup was set off to the side and his head was gently set back down. The hand returned to his forehead, not as cool as before. The look on the Tea Man's face, however, was of relief; and in a way, he himself was relieved as well, considering that the ache in his head and chest lessened.

"You must be tired," the Tea Man said and boy, was he right. Closing his eye-

Wait!...Eye?

Why was there a bandage covering the whole left side of face anyways? And speaking of that, it itches like _hell_!

"Muuu." When he tried to scratch at the bandages, the Tea Man shook his head and grabbed his wrist gently.

"No," he said softly. "Don't touch."

"Bon' flush."

"Don't touch."

He whined softly and flapped his wrists; being told not to scratch was beginning to get uncomfortable.

"I know it itches but look," the Tea Man disappeared out of his lopsided view and when he came back up, in his hand was a small jar of a green like substance. "The salve will stop the itching but I can only apply it when you're asleep, okay?"

His wrists stopped flapping and he bit his lip; maybe he can wait for a while longer.

The Tea Man smiled and released his wrist, tucking the blankets under his chin once more.

His lids suddenly became very heavy and exhaustion finally caught with him.

"Sleep, my nephew."

The man offered him a kind smile and eventually, he fell asleep.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Determination<strong>_

One would wonder how long the prince's temper would last.

Some would think that he has the shortest temper on the ship and should be avoided if a sailor respected his own life.

Others would think that he had a calm disposition, his patience not prone to wearing thin every five seconds.

When Commander Zhao would visit the prince's ship, he would constantly brag about his new position or how he had almost captured the Avatar. One time, when his head was more past up his ass than usual, he had mentioned news from the Fire Nation, how the Fire Lord had apparently told him that the prince was no longer welcome home, his mission failed. It took almost the whole crew and General Iroh to pull the distressed prince away from the Commander.

Zhao had escaped with a black eye, a bloody nose, a searing bite to his right wrist, multiple claws to the face, numerous bruises across his whole body, a busted lip and burnt off sideburns.

The visits had stopped for awhile after that.

The prince had seemed more down after that, refusing to leave his quarters or when he did come out by persuasion from his uncle, he would stare out into the water. What he would see, they wouldn't know.

Lieutenant Jee was known to be the only one that conversed with the prince. Sometimes, it would be about nothing in particular, like the next coordinates to a harbor had been changed or that it was possible that a storm would come about. Once, it was about the controversial play of 'Love Amongst the Dragons'.

"Wait; if Princess Luong wanted to make her father proud, why did she leave her home when it was clearly against his order?"

"Love."

So when Jee had came up to the prince when it was one of those "down days", it wasn't surprising when Jee wasn't tackled to the ground in anger. The prince silently listened to the Lieutenant ramble on and on about some stories of him and his uncle when they were stationed at the walls of Ba Sing Se.

"The look on General Sung's face was of fear when your uncle had approached him. That man had repeatedly begged for mercy, pleading, 'Please don't kill me. Please don't kill the—Tunic Team, was it?"

"Terra."

"Right, Terra. Anyways, General Sung had gave your uncle a knife of his. 'Never Give Up Without A Fight,' it said. Your uncle then looked at me and said, 'This would be a great gift for my nephew.' I had agreed. That knife carries a very inspiring motto; never give up, even when things are looking bad."

The prince had leaned down and pulled something out of his boot almost automatically. It was the very knife that the Lieutenant had mentioned about.

"Never give up...without a fight," the prince had mumbled before smiling softly.

His search for the avatar was what kept him dreaming of the day when he could one day return to his place of warmth, his home. This small task was important to him; who cares if Monkey man got a new position—nothing can stop him from accomplishing his goal.

Nothing.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Fear<strong>_

"It's almost time."

Every one looked up from their task; Katara's arm paused at stirring what was to be dinner, Sokka looked up from the "Master Schedule", Toph paused at picking at her toes, Aang halted at punching a defenseless tree, and even his nephew drifted his attention away from the chittering lemur.

"What do you mean, sir?" Sokka asked, slowly setting the scroll down.

"I think it is best if we part ways."

Just as Iroh expected, his statement was met with outrageous shouts and protests (his nephew, however did nothing but move his gaze at his bare feet).

"But I still haven't mastered firebending yet!" Aang cried; for days, the young Avatar was haunted with nightmares and was shaken by paranoia. Iroh smiled sadly.

"You have my nephew to teach you."

His statement was now met with raised brows.

"I'm sad to say this but I'm afraid my nephew won't be going with me this time."

Everyone now glanced at Zuko, who still stared blankly at his toes, his gaze empty. Katara furrowed her brows; how dare this guy just sit there and do nothing while his uncle was leaving!

So after a half hour of eating their dinner—most of them barely eating the majority of it (except for his nephew, how ate normally)—and a few minutes of packing, Iroh began to say goodbye.

"Be safe," he said but the two words hid many meanings—_take care of yourselves, you can do it, I have faith in you, it's okay to be scared, watch over my nephew._

Suddenly, his nephew came in with a limp sack and broadswords in hand.

"Time to go."

Iroh smiled sadly; if he cried now, his nephew would surely fret.

"Yes, it's time for me to go."

"Let's go."

Iroh smile dimmed and he sighed, "No, nephew, you have to stay here this time."

His nephew frowned and looked down at his feet.

"We gotta go."

Iroh's smile vanished and he brought his nephew close.

"I'm sorry."

"We gotta go."

Iroh shook with grief as he buried his head into his nephew's shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

Zuko gave a sharp whine and pushed him away forcefully, shaking his head.

"Nononononono," he whimpered softly, biting his lip. "We gotta go. We gotta go."

Iroh wiped at his eyes.

"I've got to go now," he said shakily, struggling to conceal his sobs.

"Don't go," Zuko whimpered. Instead of wailing at the top of his lungs or throw a tantrum, he did something unexpected.

He cried.

No, not like the dramatic actors who "tearbend" and give their "oh woe is me" speech, nor was it the silent, "I'm ashamed to cry" kind of thing.  
>It was the showing of fear in his eyes, the slight quiver in his lip, how his body was trembling terribly.<p>

He was scared, scared of being left alone once more.

He grabbed hold of his uncle's shoulder and squeezed tightly, as if threatening to tear it off.

"Don't go. Don't go."

Iroh rested his hand on it before slowly sliding it off his shoulder.

"I've gotta go now."

His nephew frantically shook his head, his chest heaving up and down.

"Don't leave Zuko! Don't go!" he cried, his grip on his uncle's hand tightening. His uncle brought him close and softly began to run his fingers through the thick matt of hair.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't go. Don't go. Don't...go. Don't...go," Zuko sobbed, burying his face into his uncle's shoulder, soaking it with tears. He continued to wail loudly, not even stopping when Iroh began to rub his back, something that used to calm him down as a child.

"I'm sorry, my nephew. I'm so sorry," Iroh whispered, tears dripping into his nephew's hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

After his nephew decided to walk away in exhaustion an hour later, like if this was all a dream and if he fell asleep and woke up, his uncle would still be there, Iroh carefully walked off successfully without catching his attention.

With a final goodbye to the Avatar and his friends, Iroh left to search what he was looking for. That night, and every other night since, Iroh was haunted by the sound of his nephew's wails and sobs, always thinking that his nephew was just having a nightmare and had woken up crying right next to him.

Taking care of his nephew was scary at times but only when Iroh couldn't understand what his nephew wanted. Being alone, however, was Iroh's, and his nephew's, greatest fear.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Argument<em>**

It was a bit unheard of Iroh and his nephew having an argument. Of course, there was a few times when they had a small disagreement but never an argument.

It wasn't really a "fist" fight but more of a nasty spat.

"_Shut up_! Shutupshutupshutupshutup!" Zuko shrieked, his hands at his ears and his eyes squeezed shut. Iroh clenched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to keep his temper under control.

"..._Nephew_, I know that it's hard to adjust to this but this is now a chance to have a new life. Why don't you take a few minutes to cool down and we'll talk about this—"

"No!" Zuko interrupted hotly, glaring at his uncle with his teeth bared.

"Zuko—"

"No!"

"Nephew, stop—"

"No!"

"Young man, we are not going to—"

"No!"

"Stop doing that right this instant, young man!"

Silence.

"What part of 'we cannot go home' don't you understand? Your sister is hunting us down and trying to kill us under your father's orders. Catching the avatar will not only ruin your chance of a new life but also have you as some _puppet_ to your father. Do you want to be with someone who doesn't even love you or with someone who actually pays attention to you?"

There was a small silence followed by a tired sigh.

"Zuko-"

"Home."

"What was that?"

"Home."

When great, fat tears slipped from those frightened eyes, Iroh's anger slipped away, replaced by guilt.

"Zuko," Iroh said softly, resting a hand on his nephew's shoulder. Zuko gave a choked squeak and trembled, whimpering like a kicked puppy. Iroh hid a hurt look as he drew his hand away.

The flier of the Avatar's bison is forgotten, having been crumpled to the ground.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Rain<em>**

Rain is something Zuko that doesn't mind about. It's the thunder that scares him.

When living at the palace during Moonsoon season, Iroh and the palace staff would often find him curled up in his cupboard, wailing and shaking dreadfully.

It was worse when he was on the ship; the sound of the thunder echoed through the metals in the ship(which was pretty much everything). It took a whole day and a half to get Zuko to calm down fully. The majority of the crew still holds the cuts and bruises—one crew member claims that he had been bitten—from the struggle the prince had built up when trying to quiet the bloodcurdling screams.

So, Iroh worries when the rain starts get a bit heavier in the Lower Ring. His nephew sits on the floor of their apartment, a blanket draped around his shoulders as his elbows limp on the windowsill, his head resting on his left arm, watching the rain fall.

As if the gods heard his fear and decided to be dreadfully mischievous, a loud crash of thunder resounded throughout the whole area, jolting his nephew out of his daze.

He gave a terrified shriek and bolted out of the room, curling up in a corner, rocking back and forth while wailing at the top of his lungs.

Iroh walked over to his nephew, kneeling onto the floor to catch his nephew's attention. He lightly tapped the floor until Zuko's wails receded to whimpers, his form still shaking.

When it seemed like his nephew gave him a watery, pleading look, Iroh did nothing but go back into the living room and pick up the blanket. He came back to his shaking nephew and draped the thick cloth around him.

Iroh did not say a word, the silence soothing the teen;his body stopped trembling, the rocking halted, and the whimpering paused.

"Would you like to rest for a bit or would you like to do something else?" Iroh asked quietly.

His nephew said nothing in return, looking very distraught but exhausted.

"Would you like to sleep or watch the rain with me?"

"Watch. Watch the rain."

So they did just that, his uncle sitting next to his curled form, watching the rain fall like scattered diamonds.

Whenever the thunder resounds once more, Zuko stiffens but before he could wail, his uncle would give his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Although he hates being touched, Zuko allowed that small ounce of comfort sneak past his shield for once. Cause sometimes, even he needs that kind of comfort.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Tea<strong>_

"How is he?"

"He still won't leave his room. Maybe we should leave him alone for awhile..."

It felt like that was the same suggestion as yesterday.

...And the day before that...

...And the day before that...

...

...

...And the day before that...

If he were to check right now, Hakoda would find the firebender in the same position as before when he had checked five hours; a curled form under heavy comforters, either trembling with soft sobs or still with slow inhales and exhales.

"I'm gonna go check up on him," Hakoda said, rising from his seat next to his son and his girlfriend with a cup of tea in hand. "I'll be right back."

Suki and Sokka nodded, them being the only ones awake; escaping from the most dangerous prison in the Fire Nation was quite exhilarating.

"Good luck, Dad," Sokka said, massaging his chest; when it was his turn to check up on him, Sokka was met with a series of blows to the chest when he had tried to rouse the firebender awake.

Hakoda nodded.

Hopefully, he wouldn't get a bruise from trying to speak to the firebender; he had enough on his shoulder from the young blind girl.

"Zuko? Are you awake?"

He silently shut the door behind him as he took a seat on the ground next to the bed.

The lump on the bed shifted slightly, tired eyes blearily blinking at the man. Wet, amber eyes stared at him, full of fatigue and despair.

"I've...brought some tea," Hakoda said after a few moments of a silent staring contest, him the first to look away. "It's Jasmine; would you like some?"

Zuko slowly rose from his tight cocoon, the thick blanket still draped around his shoulders as he sat on his knees. He gingerly held the cup and took hesitant sip, before looking dismayed.

"What's wrong?"

"Wan' uncle's t-tea," he mumbled, handing the cup back.

After a few moments of silence, Hakoda said softly, "You miss your uncle, don't you."

It certainly wasn't a question.

"Zuko m-miss Uncle Iroh," was his reply. The teen's form began to shake, soft keening sounds emitting from a bitten lip.

Hakoda did what any parent would do; he hugged him. His grip remained tight, even when the boy began to shriek and claw at his chest. After a few moments of the frightened hits, the boy gave up and leaned heavily on his shoulder, rocking back and forth with his wails muffled.

"Shh," Hakoda hushed him softly. "You're okay."

He remembered those soft words that teen's uncle had used two months ago when they were still on his ship. He continued to whisper softly to him, running a hand through the thick locks of hair, rocking the teen slowly back and forth.

It was easy to remember someone in your life leaving, their small acts affecting you, whether it was their support and/or noticeable quirks.

It was, however, extremely hard to forget the presence that the person had impacted on you.

In other words, Zuko is hurting from a heavy wound to the heart; his uncle is gone and he can't do anything about it. That is his wound.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Five Senses<strong>_

One day, Zuko mused, he'll be able to be normal.

After another day of the Fire Man yelling at him about being a stain to his "fah-mi-lee" and how his "dis-grass" upsets his "mu-ther", he is here in his cabinet with his blanket, hiding from the monsters that the Pretty Lady would call his "fah-mi-lee".

He can't help being different; if the room is bright, then he goes blind and that scares him.

If someone taunts him, like that Lying Lady, then shouldn't he have a right to tackle her to the ground, inflict the very pain she brought on him on her?

_There is such a thing called karma._

If some of his clothes are itchy, then shouldn't he have the right to take them off? So he doesn't like garlic; the Fire Man has dislikes too, so what's wrong with spitting out the vile bread?

He has feelings, he just has trouble expressing them well.

He has ten fingers and toes, its just that he can't control himself well, especially if he is being made fun of.

He has a tongue, there's just some things that he can't take like that nasty garlic; he would get terrible coughs and get hives real easily.

He has two eyes but sometimes it's irritating to get blind all the time when he has to visit his "grant-fa-thur".

He has two ears; why do you think he attacks the Lying Lady—he can clearly hear her call him an idiot.

He has a nose; wouldn't you hate having to smell the palace's dumpsters everytime he had his walk. He has a sensitive nose!

So why were treating him like this?

He's human too.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Brewing Tea<strong>_

"Now you see, my nephew, the trick to brewing tea is that you have to relax. Take smooth breaths. Use—wait, don't throw that out!

"I know it smells but that doesn't mean—what are you doing?

"...No, don't pour it—okay, now you're just taunting me."

Iroh sighed as he watched his nephew flung a large number of tea bags into the ocean, beaming all the while.

* * *

><p><strong>I repeat; <strong>

**If you have any requests, suggestions, advice, ideas, prompts, inspiration, etc...**

**Reviews are like air. You wouldn't want me to suffocate, would you? ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

__**Disclaimer:**

**Me: I don't A:TLA.**

**Toph: If she did, the series wouldn't have ended due to her procastination.**

**( ;_; )**

**Enjoy ~  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Alone<strong>_

Sometimes, when she feels strangely sympathetic towards him for some reason, Katara ponders over her ex-enemy.

What's going on his head, what he likes to do, if he even knows her friends' names are, what he does for fun.

It's not like she enjoys pondering over his mannerisms; her friends want her to make nice and if that would stop the disappointed stares and the exhausted sighs, she supposes that she owes at least that much to them.

"Um...what are you doing?"

She had found the teen staring at the night sky, his legs hanging limply over the edge and his mouth moving silently. He paused and tilted his head towards her direction, as if acknowledging her presence. He raised a shaky finger and pointed to the sky.

"Stars," he said. He patted the empty spot next to him softly, a small gesture probably looking harmless from another point of view. The way she sees it, it's like he's waiting for the right moment until he pushes her off the ledge. A deadly but unintentional accident, right? That's how her friends would see it.

Nonetheless, she swallowed her anger and accusations and took a seat next to him. She felt uneasy but a bit safe, for she was least a foot and a half away from him. Perfectly safe.

They sat there in silence, the teen's gaze returning to the sky while her's moved to her feet.

"So you know the constellations?" she asked after a long moment of silence, trying to converse with the quiet boy. He gave a short nod, his hand sliding towards hers. She stiffened as the boy pulled a finger, her index, out of the tight fist. He used the finger and traced many patterns in the sky.

"Kuí, Lóu, Wèi..." he began to recite the western constellations, the body of the mythical creature called the "tiger". Being in the south all her life, she had learned of the "vermillion bird"; Jǐng, Guǐ, Lǐ, Xīng, Zhāng, Yì, and Zhěn.

"I didn't know that you knew constellations," Katara commented after a long while after listening to the teen ramble about something along the lines of "Vega", "Altair" and something like "Deneb".

The teen said nothing in return, looking a bit dazed. His eyes looked glassy and unfocused as he stared at the sky in concentration.

"Zuko," Katara started slowly, "why do you like watching the stars?"

Zuko remained silent, his mouth moving silently and his eyes darting around the night sky. After while, Katara gave a loud sigh and stood; what's the point?

Eh, she tried didn't she?

"Never alone," Zuko finally said, making the girl halt.

She turned and saw how young the ex-prince suddenly looked. Like a curious child or a lost puppy. A bit cautious, quiet yet fretful, _pitiful_.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced out, "Do you want come and sit with us?"

Zuko reluctantly turned away from the sky and followed the Water Tribe girl to the small fire where her friends were, some asleep, some blearily awake and talking silently. The ones who were awake—her brother, Toph, and Aang—looked up (technically, Toph had inclined her head but do we really need details?)and had paused their conversation.

"Hey Sparky," Toph greeted the teen with a smirk. "Glad you decided to join us."

She patted the empty spot next to her—a gesture Zuko might have gotten from her perhaps?—and grinned.

"Come sit by me, will ya?"

Katara watched in awe as Zuko followed the blind girl's order without once hesitating; anything that she would ask the firebender to do was either ignored or taken by frustration when she couldn't understand why he wouldn't listen to her (_only later would she find out that the reason he couldn't help with cutting the garlic or raspberries was because he was allergic to them and was prone to falling ill with nausea and hives_).

"There stars out?" Toph asked him, smiling.

"There are stars out tonight," Zuko said, sounding a bit dazed, mumbling softly to himself and slightly rocking in a ball. He glanced at the night sky more than she can count and she was sure that the teen was feeling uncomfortable; hell, she herself is a bit surprised that she hadn't tackled and snarled at him like she would have before if Zuko had even breathed the wrong way.

Damn her and her flippin' pitying habit!

* * *

><p><strong><em>Exhaustion<em>**

Sometimes on those days when it seems like nothing can go right at all for him nor his nephew, he feels like giving up. Mind you, Iroh's not really one to give up so easily.

There are times where he finds himself wanting to cry after watching his nephew fall so many times. How he has the strength to get back up, he himself doesn't quite know yet. But when even his nephew decides to stay on the ground with an open wound, wailing tragically after a broken dream, Iroh can't mend the problem, no matter how much he wanted to.

He doesn't give up right away. In fact, he tries his hardest to fix that problem using endless encouragement, sometimes a hug, depending on his nephew's mood, and maybe even a cup of tea. But when that problem is too difficult, out of reach, and impossible to solve, he must watch his nephew's facade crumble.

He's a human being, he's an elderly man, he's the Dragon of the West, he was a war general.

He's an uncle—_he's a father_.

Why must his nephew have this condition; he admits that there's an upside to it but it rarely shows unless you squint and tilt your head. Why must his nephew endure all of this, all of these obstacles?

He's 16, almost 17 in a few months, and he can't even keep one friend. He can barely talk with a limited vocabulary, little to no facial expression, can't stand being touched by strangers, no matter how nice or polite.

Were he someone without his condition, how would he have been; would he have a short temper, would he still have been banished, would he still have been in the White Lotus, would he have still been socially awkward?

Would he have still been as obsessed with capturing the Avatar, with_ going home_?

"Muuu."

Iroh's thoughts screeched to a stop as he directed his attention to his nephew. The teen was gaping at the sky, almost interested into the fireworks yet fearful; today was the Fire Days festival and he had decided to take his nephew out. His boy needed to get out of the ship more often (to tell you the truth, he's surprised and a bit proud that his nephew hadn't made a fit and had controlled himself otherwise).

"What is it my nephew?"

His nephew's gaze remained to the sky in awe. He looked slightly curious yet a bit uneasy, like he was expecting a pie to hit him in the face. Perhaps he just doesn't like the sound of the fireworks going off but the colors amused him.

"Do you like the fireworks, my nephew?" he asked softly, his nephew breaking out of his trance.

"I like the fireworks," his nephew echoed, mumbling softly to the sky as his gaze focused on it once more.

Iroh smiled.

_One step at a time._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Birthdays<em>**

When finding out the day of his son's birthday, Iroh hid his sadness and had asked his nephew to come along (he couldn't leave him alone and unattended at their job; his nephew always stood by him as close as his own shadow.)

"Come along."

Iroh smiled and grabbed his straw hat.

"Let's go, my nephew."

"Let's go."

**[][][][][][][]**

"Perhaps you would like this basket if it is for a family outing."

"It is not really for a family outing but it is a special occasion."

Iroh handed the merchant a few coins and picked up the basket, silently watching his nephew push a vase with a single flower inside where it was hidden by the shade.

"Moon flower...likes shade."

**[][][][][][][]**

They continued to roam the streets of the lower ring, gathering small things like a couple of moon peaches and some incense.

When they had stopped in front of liuqin shop, a loud wail resounded throughout the street, causing his nephew to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut.

"Shh, it's okay. Shh, shh, it's okay~," a woman soothed softly to a young boy, who resumed to weep.

The sound of a liuqin caught the attention of the woman, who was presumed to be the mother of the wailing child.

"_Leaves from the vine, falling so slow.__ Like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam.__ Little soldier boy comes marching home.__ Brave soldier boy comes marching home_," Iroh sang, playing the instrument while kneeling down in front of the boy, who's weeping ceased. His pout turned into smile as he reached forward and pulled on Iroh's beard.

"Yeowch!"

The boy giggled and the mother led him away with a relaxed smile.

Iroh watched with a content look and glanced at his nephew, who's hands slid off of his ears and his form calm.

**[][][][][][][]**

They continued to roam and stopped in front of a courtyard, watching four boys play Earth Soccer(well, _Iroh_ was watching; Zuko was merely fumbling with his shirt, shifting his weight from one foot to the other).

After a few moments of playing, the leather ball had accidentally shot towards Iroh, who ducked. Unfortunately, his nephew was the one who got knocked off of his feet with the ball to his face.

"Sorry, mister!" the boy exclaimed, looking ready to run.

"See what you did, Shìgù?" one friend yelled. They jolted stiffly when Zuko sat up. He looked calm, even though a big bruise laid smack on the middle of his forehead. He stood up with shaky knees and dusted himself off, picking up the leather ball. He approached Shìgù, who gulped fearfully.

"Play."

Shìgù nodded and hesitantly took the ball from the teen.

"Thank you, mister."

"Thank you, Qui-Pu."

That was what caused Iroh to smile as the young boy's friends laughed jauntily.

**[][][][][][][]**

Walking once more, the two family members were suddenly approached by a lanky man with crooked knees and a dagger in hand.

"You. Give me your money," the man said, his tone trying to sound threatening. Iroh merely raised a brow. Zuko only stared off into the distance, unfazed by the man.

"What are you doing?" Iroh asked, sounding like if he was speaking to a friend rather than a criminal.

"I'm mugging you!"

"With that stance?"

"Wha-What are you talking about? Just give me your money, old man!"

Iroh only shook his head in disapproval. "With a poor stance, you are unbalanced and can be easily knocked over."

Proving his point, Iroh swiftly stole the man's weapon and pushed him to the ground.

"Oof!"

"Don't leave a mess!" Zuko yelped, echoing the phrase that was ordered at his job. Iroh twirled the dagger and held out a hand for the fallen man. The man hesitantly reached for it before standing up fully.

"With a more solid stance, you are a much more serious threat," Iroh instructed, giving a demonstration. The man attempted to do the same and was corrected by a quick nudge in the back with Iroh's foot. "Much better! But to tell you the truth, you do not look like the criminal type."

The man sighed, "I know. I'm...I'm just confused."

Iroh rested a tender hand on the man's shoulder, giving a caring smile.

A few hours later, the man—whose name was Kùnhuò—and Iroh was seated in the alley, drinking and conversing over tea while watching Zuko gain and lose interest over a loose stone in the wall.

"So you really think I can be a good masseur?" Kùnhuò asked, sounding young and hopeful.

"Of course!" Iroh said cheerfully, pouring another cup of tea. "Would you like some tea, Li?"

"Tea for Li."

"Yes, tea for Li. Here you go."

"Tea for Li."

Kùnhuò watched the interaction silently, still smiling subconsciously.

"This is amazing. No one has ever believed in me."

"While it is always best to believe in oneself, a little help from others can be a great blessing," Iroh said with a smile, watching Kùnhuò sip his tea. Iroh stood, his nephew mimicking the movement. "I'd love to stay and chat but my nephew and I have a few matters to attend to."

Kùnhuò nodded. "Thank you very much, Mushi. I'm in debt to you."

Iroh blushed, sheepishly saying,"No need. If you would like, I work in a small teashop a few blocks away. So if you want to chat or if you would simply like a cup of tea, you are welcome anytime."

Kùnhuò stood and bowed, handing the tea cup back to Iroh.

"I'll see what I can do. Thank you for the advice and the tea."

With that, Kùnhuò left further into the alley, disappearing around the corner.

**[][][][][][][]**

By sunset, they had reached their destination; a steep hill that only held an aging tree at the top. The leaves were slowly drifting from the sturdy branches as Iroh knelt down and sat on his knees. His nephew remained standing.

Iroh began to pull the things out of the basket, setting it down on the green cloth he had laid against a couple rocks. He took out a rough portrait of his son, Lu Ten. He bowed his head for a few seconds before setting it against the blanket, taking out the incense before lighting them with a snap of his fingers.

"Happy birthday, my son," Iroh said, placing the incense in the holder. Tears began to slide down his cheeks, his voice breaking slightly. "If only I could have helped you."

Ironic, the song that he had sung to the crying child earlier did nothing to soothe him as it did to the toddler.

Suddenly, he felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He looked up to see his nephew standing behind him. Zuko said nothing, only taking a seat a foot away from his uncle, his hand still on his shoulder. He just stared at the portrait of his cousin with an empty gaze.

"This is your cousin, Lu Ten," Iroh explained, unsuccessfully wiping all of his tears away. "Do you remember him?"

"...Lu Lu," Zuko murmured slowly.

The empty look disappeared, replaced with a curious one. "Lu-Lu."

'He most likely didn't remember anything,' Iroh mused. He would never know for sure; he may know his nephew like the back of his hand but he's pretty sure that he—

"Birthday."

...Wait, what?

"Happy Birthday, Lu-Lu."

Iroh smiled. Perhaps his nephew can remember things.

Things that were important to him.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Learning to be silent<em> **

One would wonder how someone can be just so...shy?

No...no.

She knew that people like _that_...people like _him_...how can she say this without sounding cynical?

Perhaps she just hates the way his feet are; always silent, able to sneak up on her without even trying.

Maybe she hates the fact that that _firebender_ might be laughing at her friends pure gullible act, pretending to have this so called "condition", so that her friends won't get mad when he comes near them silently.

Or could it be that he just does it to annoy her.

When she asked her friends, "Aren't you guys a bit _bothered_ that he's just, oh I don't know, a bit _too_ silent for his own good?"

Sokka shrugged and said, "I'd rather have him silent than loud as hell; when I'm thinking up strategies for when the comet comes, I'd rather have _him_ in the room than Aang, The Duke, and Teo "exploring" for Pai Sho tiles."

Toph nodded. "He doesn't interrupt and actually listens when I'm speaking."

Aang, The Duke, and Teo smiled, "He's really good at hide-and-seek."

Katara bristled.

"Aren't you guys worried _at all_ about him being all-"

"Boo!"

Katara gave a startled shriek as she turned to face Zuko, whose face was at least two inches from hers. He beamed, looking pleased with himself; she suspected that mud troll had something to do with this.

Toph chuckled, "I also like how he's the only one who can scare the crap out of you."

Answering her suspicions, Katara glared at the blind girl and the teen before stomping off, blushing in embarrassment.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Storm<em>**

"This is bad. This is bad. This is bad."

"What was that, Jerkbender?" Sokka asked, pausing from bolting a screw on Teo's wheelchair. It has been about a week since the Gaang rested here at the Western Air Temple and Moonsoon season had decided to come more early than usual.

While his sister cooked dinner, Aang was getting more earthbending lessons from Toph and he guessed that The Duke, and Haru were off exploring the temple again, leaving Teo to sit sulkily while Sokka fixed the brake on his wheelchair.

Why Zuko decided to sit here and watch, he didn't know. But hey, he's thankful that the firebender is silent and leaves him be when he's working; he needed absolute concentration when working, for he is not really that much of an expert.

After the sky rumbled ominously was when Sokka heard a sound from the firebender. It sounded so small, so weak, so _feeble_.

"This is bad. This is bad. This is bad."

Teo and Sokka turned and watched as the firebender bolted out of the room faster than they could say "Omashu".

"What was that all about?" Sokka asked, earning a shrug from Teo.

**[][][][][][][]**

"Dinner's ready!"

Katara watched as her friends scrambled in, Aang limping slightly, Toph and Sokka bolting to see who would reach the pot first and Teo, Haru, and The Duke trying desperately not to be left in the dust.

Well, that was _almost_ everybody.

"Where's Zuko?" Katara asked while in the middle of pouring The Duke his portion of dinner. It wasn't that she considered him as someone _close_ but she endured his presence for her friend's sakes.

"Haven't seen him since this afternoon. Have you seen him, Toph?" her brother asked, pausing in mid-bite.

"Yup. He didn't really look so good."

"Really? Last time I checked, he was perfectly fi-_why do you insist on doing that eve__rytime?_"

Everyone burst into laughter as Sokka flushed in embarrassment.

"But seriously, have you seen him at all?"

Everyone was silent as Toph slapped a hand on the the dusty concrete.

She was quiet for a few seconds before she said, "There's something wrong with Sparky."

"What do you mean, Toph?" Aang asked, sitting up and setting his bowl down.

"I'll be right back." Toph stood up and left, leaving the group in a room of confusion.

"I'll go with her too," Sokka said, rising from his seat as well and leaving the group, not missing Aang's shrug to his sister's confused expression.

**[][][][][][][]**

By the time Sokka found them, the storm had gotten heavier, the sound of thunder rumbling even louder than before.

"Toph? Where are you?" Sokka asked, squinting around the dark corridor.

"I'm over here!"

Putting a hand against the wall, Sokka strained his ears and followed her voice, the sound of it echoing softly.

"Toph? What's wrong?" Sokka asked, watching Toph put a hand against the wall and listen intently. Suddenly, her head snapped up to the left and started to walk down the corridor on her left.

"Sparky?" she shouted through the hall. "You there?"

Straining his ears, Sokka heard the soft whispers once more.

_"This is bad...This is bad...This is bad...This is bad."_

A loud crash of thunder interrupted the whispers, earning a terrified shriek. Faintly, in the darkness, Sokka watched as the figure clamped its hands to its ears and pulled harshly at the dark clumps of hair. A broken sounding whimper resounded as the figure's voice shook.

"_Thisisbad__thisisbad_thisisbad___thisisbad_. __Stopstopstopstopstop_-_"

"Zuko?"

The voice paused once more, a pained glance reaching into his eyes.

"Z-Zuko, it's just us. It's only me and Toph. We're not going to hurt you," Sokka said shakily, the tortured look forever printed in his mind. He started to walk slowly toward the firebender, his hands up in defense and his steps steady.

The loud crash of thunder returned, making Toph and Zuko jolt at its loud volume and Sokka move a bit quicker.

"You're okay," he said softly, taking a seat next to the firebender. "Say it with me."

If he hadn't been too busy staring intently at the firebender, he would have noticed Toph taking a seat on the other side of the firebender.

"Say it with me, Zuko. You're okay."

The firebender took many shaky breaths before repeating, "I'm okay."

"You're okay."

"I'm okay."

Sokka smiled.

"Good. Now, do you feel better?"

"I'm okay."

He couldn't tell if the firebender was merely echoing the phrase for comfort or if he actually meant it. He's glad that the firebender isn't shrieking again, however. That was the last sound that he ever wanted to hear.

It was equivalent to the sound of a wailing infant, a broken sungi horn and a slaughtered animal. _Tortured, Desperate, Loud._

"I think the rain stopped," Toph said after a while. After a small moment of silence, Sokka sighed happily.

"Do you think there's any leftovers?"

Yup. Things were back to normal.

* * *

><p><strong>Me: If you have any requests, advice, prompts, inspirations, etc... then don't afraid to ask!<br>**

**Reviews are like air. I need my air to survive, thank you very much!**

**:)**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer:**_

**Me: I don't own crap.**

**Toph: If she did, she would sue James Cameron for stealing the title name.**

**(UPDATE: Sorry for the inconvenience, readers how read before now but as ArrayePL pointed out in the 20th review, she had asked**

**"The last part - Wanting what you can't have - don't fit to the other chapters and parts. Is this a what if scene?"**

**Yes, readers, this is a what if scene, at least pertaining to this story's plot. In the story's plot, Zuko didn't join Azula and go back home. He and his uncle had joined the avatar gang. **

**The reason I typed this scene, Wanting what you can't have, is because one of my respected authors, GhostMajor, had requested a drabble on how Ozai, or Azula, would react if Zuko had returned home.**

**Sorry for the small inconvenience!)  
><strong>

**Enjoy!~  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Encouragement<strong>_

"Urggh! Why can't I get this move right?" Aang groaned. He furiously swung his arms while long strings of fire followed. It flowed correctly for a few seconds before the fire dissolved in mid-movement.

The Avatar let out another frustrated groan before plopping down against the concrete walls of the temple sulkily.

His teacher paused in mid-Kata and joined his pupil at sitting against the wall, their sweaty backs resting against the cool surface. They sat in silence for a short moment before Aang sighed.

"I'm sorry, Zuko," he said, looking at his teacher with a sad expression. "It's just that..."

He paused, glancing at his teacher to see if he was listening. His teacher was staring at the ground but his ears were perked ever so slightly.

"It's just that...the comet's coming soon and I can't afford to mess up right now," Aang finished with an upset sigh. Instead of being yelled at, like Toph would've done, or being brought into a warm, reassuring hug, like Katara would've done, Zuko said nothing and only rested a hand on the Avatar's bald head.

"There, there," he murmured. Aang guessed this was something that had reassured his own teacher. "You're okay."

Aang smiled.

"Can you show me that move again?"

His teacher nodded and stood up, helping him stand as well. He felt his teacher's hands guide his arms briefly before he released them. Aang retried the move, this time succeeding.

"Thank you, Sifu Hotman."

He earned a small grunt and beamed widely at his teacher.

He wouldn't ask for anyone else.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Art<em>**

If you asked him, Sokka would inform with all he knows about art, drawing wise. How it all began, what materials are needed depending on the project, the famous known artists, _anything_.

"More than one."

"Huh?"

When Toph had asked him what art was, Sokka immediately flew off into the conversation, constantly rambling on and on about how "art is to be taken seriously" and that he only knows and is sure there's only form of art, which was drawing.

"More than one. There is more than one form of art," the Avatar's firebending teacher said simply, having quietly pass by them in search of a scroll or a paper of some sort. He plopped down to the dusty floor and began using his finger to trace swirls in the dirt.

"Wait, there's more than one?"

"More than one. More than one," Zuko mumbled, his finger now tracing random shapes.

"And what's that, Sparky?" Toph asked, plopping onto the floor as well, lying an open palm on the ground and felt the small movement speak to her in many volumes.

Zuko raised his head to the ceiling and his eyes began to roam across the room back and forth.

"Architecture, Music, Martial Arts, Dance, Theater, Literature, Sculpting, Poetry, Painting..."

He paused; whether he was done explaining, he had lost interest or actually forgot if there were more, they couldn't tell.

"You like drawing?" Sokka asked, raising a brow and sounding slightly amused.

"I like painting," Zuko mumbled, his gaze returning to the floor and his finger swiping across his pictures swiftly. His head shot up and, getting up, he exited the room in search of what he needed. After a few moments of silence, Zuko returned with a scroll, a bottle of ink and a paint brush.

He sat on his knees, setting the ink and brush down before allowing the bottom half of the scroll unroll until it hit the floor with a small 'plop'. Sokka hovered slightly near the firebender as Zuko curled up slightly before dipping the paint brush into the ink and began to sliding it across the scroll.

"...What's that supposed to be?" Sokka asked, squinting his eyes and tilting his head to the left slightly.

The firebender didn't respond, already in deep concentration. As time passed, the picture grew a bit more legible.

"Is that me?" Sokka asked finally after the firebender set the brush down and tried to spread the scroll out even more.

Zuko nodded slightly, looking slightly content, relaxed as though he had finished a difficult task.

His drawing looked as crude as a young child's drawing; slightly good but, in a way, _surreal_. If someone knew better, they would see a row of people, seven in total, either with a wide smile hanging off the edge of the "heads" or an angry face with big sharp teeth.

"Am I there?" Toph asked eagerly, her finger tracing the somewhat dry ink and successfully not messing the picture up.

"Mm hmm. You're one of the ones smiling," Sokka replied, amused at the giant circles near a figure, implying Toph's headband. He had twitched slightly at his picture; a smiling figure with his wolf tail exaggerated and turned a giant, spiky ponytail. He pointed to one of the figures, who was the only one there with an angry face with sharp teeth hanging off a frown and weird loops that looked like Momo's ears upside-down, and asked, "Who's that?"

"Tara," Zuko murmured softly, biting his nail absentmindedly and his eyes roaming across the room once more. Sokka smothered his laughter while Toph cackled loudly.

"What's going on here?"

Toph and Sokka abruptly cut their laughter off as Katara entered the room with a suspicious look towards her brother and friend, but more of a scowl towards the firebender.

"Oh, nothing. Just talking about the wonders of art. Right, Toph?" Sokka said, trying to sound nonchalant. When the blind girl didn't respond for a few moments, Sokka nudged her with his elbow and smiled nervously at his sister.

"Oh- Oh yeah! Mm hmm, just the wonders of art and it's...oldness," Toph finished with a shaky grin. Katara narrowed her eyes and then, as if it suddenly came to her, she turned to the silent firebender.

"Zuko, are they lying?"

Sokka and Toph gulped; yup-they're dead.

Zuko was silent and before Katara could round in on Toph and Sokka, her ears were filled with low ramblings.

"Art is the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power. It is also subjects of study primarily concerned with the processes and products of human creativity and social life, such as literature, and history. In many ways, art is-"

"Okay! Okay! I get it!" Katara cut him off, momentarily shocked and disturbed; this was the longest she's seen or heard the firebender talk this much. She gave Toph and Sokka one last suspicious look before leaving the room, shaking her head.

Sokka stared at Toph, who stared back up at him even when she couldn't see him. They both turned to Zuko (who still rambled to himself), before turning back to themselves.

They burst out laughing.

"Whew! I wish I could see. If I did, I would died on just seeing the look on her face!" Toph cackled, clutching her stomach.

Their laughter eventually slowed to low guffaws and satisfied 'heh's' while they were wiping at the tears in their eyes.

"Thanks, Zuko. I'm glad you're good at art," Sokka said, turning to the firebender, who had finally stopped his rambling.

"I'm glad," Zuko echoed, smiling faintly.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Unresolved issues<strong>_

At first, she didn't believe him.

"If this some sick joke, I'm not laughing, Zuko," she growled through gritted teeth. It was one thing to save her from the falling pillar, and she's thankful, _really_, but if he's looking for her approval, taunting her with some _lie _about knowing where her mother's killer is...that's...that's _sick._

"Not a joke," Zuko replied, shaking his head softly. He reached into his shirt and took out a scroll, letting it loose, revealing a map full of red ink. He sat on the ground, spread the map out and pointed a giant, noticeable "X".

"Southern Raiders," Zuko said, pulling out another parchment out of his shirt. Laying smack on the middle was that symbol that haunted Katara's dreams since _that day._

He was telling the truth.

Katara gaped at the firebender before furrowing her brows and pulling on a determined look.

"Take me to them."

**[][][][][][][]**

"Thanks for understanding, Aang."

Aang gave her a soft smile but pure worry leaked out of his eyes.

_Please don't choose revenge. Let your anger out, then let it go. Forgive him._

Katara inwardly frowned.

_I'm sorry, Aang. _

"Yip, Yip."

**[][][][][][][]**

After they successfully found the location of the Southern Raiders' patrol position, near Whale Tail Island which was quite a long distance from where they are now, Katara and Zuko rode on Appa into the night, the waterbender taking the reins and the firebender blearily waking up.

She heard him wake up but did nothing, for things as such would _not _distract her from her mission.

"Sleep."

Katara's grip loosened slightly and she looked over her shoulder to see Zuko stare at her blankly. One would think that by the look on his face, Zuko was bored, but Katara knew better. Zuko was actually a bit concerned for her.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," Katara said with a wry smile. Zuko frowned and began to crawl towards the end of Appa's saddle, near the front where Katara sat. His finger reached forward and, if he leaned forward a bit more, almost touched her eyelid.

"Tired. Go to sleep. Rest."

"I don't need to sleep to get more energy, Zuko. I have enough to fill a Komodo rhino," Katara said, stiffly trying to joke with the firebender. Zuko's face remained straight and serious until Katara gave in and sighed.

"Fine. But for one hour only," Katara reluctantly said, raising her index finger warningly.

"One hour only."

"Good," Katara let herself smile loosely and, handing the firebender the reins, she laid down on the warm saddle and fell asleep.

**[][][][][][][]**

Until now, Katara never knew that Zuko can be...well...

This _scary.  
><em>

Zuko held the captain by his throat against the wall. He growled something low into the man's ear and as every second passed, the man's eyes grew louder and louder.

"He's in Chànhuǐ Island, straight across from here. P-Please, don't kill m-me," the Captain whimpered and after a few seconds of a tense silence, his throat was let loose and he collapsed. Zuko gave the man a very chilling dark look before turning to Katara.

"Time to go."

**[][][][][][][]**

They follow him until he finally found out their hiding place. Well, almost found it.

Katara shivered lightly as she realized what would have happened if they _had _decided to hide behind that bush. She breathed in deeply and exhaled softly before setting her look of determination.

"When?" she whispered softly to Zuko, who stared intently at the man, who turned away grumpily from the burning bush. As soon as that man tripped over that wire Zuko had set up, the firebender whispered back:

"Now."

With a kick, Zuko let a burst of fire almost touch the man's skin as Yon Rha turned and backed away fearfully.

"We were not behind that bush," Zuko said calmly before taking an eerie tone. "...I...suggest you do not firebend anymore."

To her surprise, the monster merely raised an arm as if to shield himself instead of attacking like he would have done years ago. "Whoever you are, take my money. Take whatever you want, I'll cooperate."

Katara inwardly sneered and decided to come out of her hiding place. Without hesitating, she pulled off her face mask and glared deeply into that man's eyes.

"Do you know who I am?"

The monster's eyes widened in fear. "No, I'm not sure."

Katara almost snarled as she spat at the man, "Oh, you better remember me like your life _depends_ on it! Why don't you take a _closer _look!"

Yon Rha stared at her anxiously before he lowered his gaze guiltily, his eyes wide with sudden remembrance. "Yes, yes. I remember you now. You're that Water Tribe girl."

He stared at the ground for a while before he said. "I remember your mother had said that...if she told me who the last waterbender was, if I would leave the village alone. She had told me that she was the one, she was the last waterbender. And I..."

He gave a gulp.

"I had said I wasn't taken any prisoners."

There was a long deadly silence and Yon Rha dared to gulp once more as rain began to fall smoothly.

"She lied to you," Katara said after a while, squeezing her eyes shut, desperate not to cry in front of this man. "She was protecting the last waterbender."

"What? Who?" Yon Rha asked. Realizing his mistake, he shivered and gave another gulp.

Katara glared at him before shouting furiously, "_Me!_"

With a swift rise of both of her arms, the raindrops froze and created a watery sort of dorm that grew with each passing second, so big that Zuko stared at it with curiosity and lowered his own face mask. The dome suddenly turned into a floating blob of water until that shrunk into thin, sharp ice spikes that hung over Yon Rha before speeding in for the kill.

Yon Rha let loose a gasp and curled in on himself, making a cowering noise. Realizing that he wasn't dead, Yon Rha hesitantly opened an eye to see the ice spikes frozen just inches from his body. Katara had frozen in stance and her wrist was just seconds away from snapping and the death of the man would be quick.

_Please don't choose revenge._

Katara glared at the man, who stared back at her fearfully.

_Let your anger out, then let it go. _

She gritted her teeth inwardly and her hand began to shake.

_Forgive him._

Slowly and reluctantly, Katara loosened her stance and let her arms fall, the ice spikes dissolving into water before falling all over Yon Rha.

Kneeling, Yon Rha quickly said, "I did a bad thing. I know I did and you deserve revenge. So why don't you take my Mother? That would be fair. "

Forgiveness flooded out of her system, replaced by pity and disgust.

"I always wonder what kind of person could do such a thing. But now that I see you, I think I understand," she said, pausing for a moment before continuing. "There's just nothing inside you. Nothing at all. You're pathetic and sad and empty."

Yon Rha began to whimper loudly, sensing his chance of living getting shorter and shorter by the second. "Please spare me."

With a frustrated glare, Katara forced out, "But as much as I hate you..."

She felt her eyes fill with angry tears but she held them back as she continued once more.

"I just can't do it."

When she saw that man smile weakly, she grimaced and walked off, missing the ominous look Zuko gave the man. She heard a loud whimper and the sound of water running, even though the rain had already stopped. A few seconds later, Zuko caught up with her, looking slightly content.

**[][][][][][][]**

"He peed on himself, didn't he?"

Zuko gave a mischievous smirk and, for the first time in many weeks, Katara began to laugh.

**[][][][][][][]**

"I'm proud of you."

Katara gave a heavy sigh, her shoulders still feeling slightly heavy and her chest feeling a bit stuffed.

"I wanted to do it. I wanted to take out all my anger at him but, I couldn't," Katara explained, her feet rising out of the water and her gaze rising up to Aang. Behind him was a silent Zuko, who stared more at the sunset _behind_ her instead of at her. She wasn't really as bothered as she would be before; now's she's used to it. "I don't know if it's because I'm too weak to do it or if it's because I'm strong enough not to."

Aang smiled at her and said, "You did the right thing. Forgiveness is the first step you have to take to begin healing."

Tch. Forgiveness.

Swallowing the lump in her throat and letting out an angry sigh slowly, Katara said, "But I didn't forgive him. I will _never_ forgive him."

_Forgiveness._

Katara's thoughts suddenly screeched to a stop.

Oh.

...

...

_Oh!_

Katara brought her gaze up and looked past Aang and silently watched the firebender shift his weight from one foot to the other, his thumbs twiddling each other anxiously, staring blankly at the port.

_Forgiveness._

The heavy feeling on her shoulders and the stuffiness in her chest disappeared as she began to smile.

"I am ready to forgive _you_, though."

Zuko's thumbs stopped twiddling and his fidgeting halted as his gaze rose from the port to her eyes.

Not her forehead.

Not her chin.

_Her eyes._

"Forgive?"

"Forgive."

Katara began to walk to him, a soft smile on her lips. For a second she paused, but slowly, and surely, she spread her arms and hugged the firebender. She felt him jolt then stiffen awkwardly, as if a Boarcupine needle had snuck into his pants and poked him in the-

_Wait!_

Warmth was suddenly brought to her as the firebender slowly brought his arms around her, his hands awkwardly hanging in air, for he had never actually hugged someone back. Hell, she's surprised her wrist wasn't bitten off.

As quick as it came, the warmth disappeared and the firebender jolted away from her and looked a bit uncomfortable but otherwise, calm.

_It just needs some time._

And as she walked away, heading to the blurry figure she recognized as her brother, she smiled warmly.

"How did it go?" Sokka asked her after receiving a hug.

When Sokka saw the look in his sister's eyes, the look she had lost for a _long _while, he smiled.

"It went great."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Wanting what you can't have<strong>_

When after three years of banishing the boy with what had seemed an impossible quest to capture the avatar, the boy finally returned.

Wait.

The bo-_Zuko _deserves to be treated as a person now, for he had followed his orders without once complaining.

Ozai sighed.

Now that the bo-_his son_ was back, he would have to hire those tutors and perhaps call attention to that one servant who watched over th-_his son_ ever since he was two.

Should he try making this work or is the boy really not that important?

Ozai sighed again, a headache rising. If he had the traits of his brother, this would've been much easier. Then again, his brother is just a lazy cretin who's meddling led him to jail.

Tch.

What use would the boy be to his family? He just can't let someone like..._that_ rule the throne...can he?

Ozai makes an urgent note to make sure that the tutors teach him more advanced lessons and see how that goes through. If that fails, he would have no choice but let his daughter rule the throne.

...

...

...

Then again, there's always second chances.

**[][][][][][][]**

It was past dawn when they arrived. Sitting in his throne, simply waiting for his daughter to arrive and explain the whole situation, Ozai dimly heard his daughter's bubbly friend's voice bounce off the walls of the palace.

Yeesh, how in the high spirits of Agni did his daughter tolerate with someone so...cheery?

His thoughts paused as his daughter entered the room with her usual prideful walk and smug grace, a small smirk on her lips.

"We bring wonderful news, father."

"'We' as in you and your brother, the person you were sent to hunt down, correct?" Ozai asked cooly. If this were anyone else, they would've flinched in fear and the fire in his throne would've been higher. But this was his daughter, and from where he sat, it had looked like that smirk on his daughter's face had grew larger.

"If it weren't for the help of Zuzu, the avatar wouldn't have been slain last night and Ba Sing Se still would have been ruled by that worthless king and his adviser."

...

What?

"So with the assistance of your brother, you took Ba Sing Se _and_ killed the avatar."

"Zuzu killed the avatar all by himself, father."

All was silent for a long while before Ozai waved a hand nonchalantly.

"Send your brother in."

**[][][][][][][]**

When he entered the room, the first thing that Ozai saw was that infamous scar. The scar that he had caused, inflicted by his own hand. Were he someone with more of a heart, he would've felt horrible.

The next thing he saw was that same dazed look in those golden eyes, hazy and unfocused, th-_his son's_ mind not quite there. Perhaps he was in shock, his uncle being sent to jail a _bit_ too much on him?

His son knelt onto the floor and bowed until his forehead touched the cool surface of the ground.

"You have been away for a long time. I see the weight of your travels has changed you. You have redeemed yourself, my son," he said, meaning every word.

His son raised his head slightly, his eyes not quite staring into his but more of the surrounding fire.

With a slight lowering of his hands, the fire decreased under his command and he decided to step out of his throne. His son met his eyes for a few seconds, scrutinizing him after being away too long, before they lowered to the ground, all confidence drained.

"Welcome home."

His son barely reacted, a small twitch but nothing more. Ozai smirked as he realized, _his son was now under his command._

Anything he said, he knew his son would take to heart, whether he reacted or not.

"I am proud of you, Prince Zuko," he started. "I am proud because your sister conquered Ba Sing Se. I am proud because, when your loyalty was tested by your treacherous uncle, you did the right thing, and captured the traitor."

He paused and watched as his son shook slightly but held himself together by a string.

"And I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishment. You _slayed_ the Avatar."

If he had looked closer, he would've the look on his son's face crumple slightly and his brows furrow heavily.

But he didn't look closer.

His mind filled with ideas of fixing his son. Small mistakes like _that_ can be fixed with hard teachings and rewards.

_Right?_

* * *

><p><strong>Me: If you have any requests, advice, prompts, inspirations, etc... then don't be afraid to ask!<br>**

**Reviews are like air. I need my air to survive!**

**:)**


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